


Experiment

by Laramie



Series: Ambiguity/Experiment [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy is considering trying sex with a man, but then Thomas calls to say he has some news. The diversion proves very diverting indeed.</p><p>Part of the Ambiguity universe.</p><p>Heed the warnings in the beginning notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> Note that this is chronologically before Ambiguity. They can be read in either order but I think I would recommend reading Ambiguity first.
> 
> I’m uninspired by the fics I had planned to write, so I figured I’d give up on them, at least for now, and write out this little thing instead. It’s a sort of expansion of the AU created in Ambiguity, in that this is what happened earlier that evening. It’s a very different mood, though. To be honest, I mostly wrote it because there was a point when I tried starting Ambiguity part 2 with Jimmy meeting Thomas in the pub and I just really wanted to tell that story, since the scene was so clear to me - in the event, I realised it didn’t fit the mood, but I’m so attached to what Jimmy first says & does when he sees Thomas that I had to write it all. The style reminds me of abbys-jam-juggler's writing, oddly enough.
> 
> WARNING: Discussion of child abuse in the second italicised section, the one that starts with "Listen up". You can skip it without really missing anything, it's just backstory.

“UKC helpline, my name’s Jimmy, how can I help you today?”

“Well, you see, I’ve got a terrible problem with my phone-line.”

Jimmy was grinning already, at the prospect of five - even two - minutes break. “I see, and what seems to be the problem, sir?”

“I’ve got this news,” said Thomas. “And I need to tell my best friend but I just can’t do it over the phone.” To most, Thomas would have sounded despondent, but Jimmy could hear the smirk in his voice as surely as he would have seen it on his lips.

“How unfortunate,” Jimmy replied, grinning at the half-wall of his open-plan desk. “I suggest your best course of action is to meet your friend at the pub around seven o’clock and tell him in person.”

“Right you are. I’ll do that, Jimmy, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right, Mr Barrow.”

“Funny,” Thomas said. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

Damn. He hadn’t, had he? “Bastard.”

“Git.”

“See you later.”

“See you later.”

After the call cut out, Jimmy had about three seconds to wonder what Thomas’s news was before: “UKC helpline, my name’s Jimmy, how can I help you today?”

 

* * *

 

After work, Jimmy nipped home on the bus to change his clothes. While he was brushing his teeth, he pulled out his phone with the intention of checking Facebook. Swiping to unlock revealed the same web page he had been looking at that lunchtime - before Ivy interrupted and he had hurriedly put the phone away to concentrate on making conversation that was not engaged enough for her to think he was interested again but not aloof enough to make things awkward and irritating.

They had spent an entertaining enough couple of months having sex, about a year ago now, but Ivy had grown tired of his itchy feet and frequent flitting away to other countries.

“Isn’t it enough for you to be here?” she’d asked. Jimmy had just shrugged, and she had decided that she deserved better and started flirting with the cook in the work canteen instead. Jimmy couldn’t entirely blame her, even if he questioned her taste. Ivy and Jimmy now maintained a professional but distant working relationship.

Which was why Jimmy had not wanted her to see what he had been reading on his phone that particular lunchtime.

 

* * *

 

_Dear QueerInsider. I have been unquestioningly straight all my life (I’m 31), but recently I have been finding relationships with men unfulfilling. I’ve started to think about pursuing a woman, just to change things up a bit and see if I can kick-start my flagging love life. Is this a terrible thing to do?? I feel like I would be leading her on because I’m still pretty sure I’m straight, I just want to know what it’s like. From No Strings Attached._

 

**_Article by Liv Taylor_ **

 

_Hi, Strings! First of all, you probably already know this but I feel compelled to remind you all that sexuality is complicated and fluid, and just because for 30 years you’ve only been attracted to men doesn’t mean you won’t one day be attracted to someone of a different (or no) gender. And that’s okay! It’s equally okay, of course, if you’re only ever attracted to men for the rest of your life._

_Second of all, experimenting is a healthy, fun and useful way of figuring out what you want, but it comes with one big caveat (which applies to all sex, anyway): YOUR PARTNER MUST UNDERSTAND AND AGREE TO THE ARRANGEMENT. If you trick a women into bed by saying you want one thing when really you want another then yes, you’re an arsehole. If you present yourself honestly, however, you will admittedly find some women who are tired of being an experiment but soon enough you’ll find someone who’s quite happy for some no-strings-attached fun. You don’t necessarily have to tell the **whole** story, as long as you’re honest about your intentions, but I would recommend it._

_As always, please be safe, sensible and consensual in all your sexual encounters! And the best of luck to you, Strings!_

 

* * *

 

He had come across the article after some furtive googling and investigating of _QueerInsider.co.uk_. Because, in truth, he was considering something similar himself. Not because he was tired of women (what a bizarre idea, with all the different kinds of people in the world), but because it had been far too bloody long and it couldn’t hurt to widen the field a bit, could it?

Honesty. Jimmy wasn’t very good at being _honest_ , or at talking about what mattered. He often envied Thomas’s easy eloquence, the way he seemed to be able to say almost anything without difficulty. Thomas had claimed it was because he rehearsed a lot with the articles he wrote for QueerInsider. “I have no shame,” he had joked, but he had pulled at his glove as he spoke so Jimmy had left it - avoiding, as usual, emotional conversations.

Nevertheless, Jimmy had bought an all-day bus ticket that morning, planning to go into town and have a drink in The Will And The Way. The Will was a reasonably upmarket bar that, while not technically a gay bar, had the highest concentration of queer folk Jimmy had seen outside a Pride parade. He knew Thomas went there, but only in the day. He just sat in a corner drinking tea and reading. He didn’t like the noise - so there was no danger of running into him on a Friday night. Which was why Jimmy had bought an all-day bus ticket that morning.

But it would just as easily take him to see Thomas as it would to The Will. Jimmy slumped into a seat. He couldn’t deny that a small part of him was relieved to get off well before the bar. He would, however, have denied strongly that he was relieved because he had been nervous.

The bus stopped roughly halfway between Thomas’s flat and their usual pub. Jimmy jumped off and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, wishing that he had brought a proper coat against the October chill. Luckily, he only had 100 yards or so to walk.

The pub was still fairly quiet, this early. Jimmy immediately spotted Thomas at their usual table in the corner up nearest the door. The corner _right_ next to the door featured a serving hatch, so taking the table opposite meant that they were as close as possible to the alcohol without having people walk past them all the time.

Jimmy smiled as he saw his friend. “Alright, Thomas?” He ruffled Thomas’s hair cheekily before sitting down; Thomas glared at him playfully but he couldn’t control the smile on his lips.

“Alright,” he responded, pushing a vodka and coke towards him. “How was your day?”

“Usual. Saw Ivy at lunchtime. She says it’s her and Alfred’s four-month anniversary on Sunday.” He didn’t add _‘she interrupted me re-reading this article about having gay sex even if you’re not gay’_ , though for a moment it was on the tip of his tongue to do so. Thomas would probably pick him up on the wording somewhere. Jimmy had never thought of himself as particularly homophobic but since meeting Thomas he had learned a lot about how much language was based on it. It had taken Jimmy a couple of months to stop using _‘you’re so gay’_ as his go-to insult.

“Any weird customers?” Thomas asked, no more interested in the love-lives of Jimmy’s coworkers than Jimmy was.

“Not really. But someone did try to order a pizza yesterday.”

Thomas shook his head. “And here I thought it would be a one-off, the first time you told me. That’s got to be twenty now, hasn’t it?”

“At least. Anyway, you called me here to tell me your news so come on, what is it?”

“Well,” Thomas began, his eyes lighting up. “You know that performance review I had last month?”

“When I was in Brazil?”

“That’s the one. Edith said it was supposed to ensure a ‘mutually satisfying creative relationship’ and I said it would be much more satisfying if, instead of just talking about the same old literature that only represents a narrow fraction of privileged people, I could actually help to educate straight people and comfort queer ones.”

Jimmy gazed at him in awe. “Ya never did?”

“I bloody did. She looked a bit taken aback and scribbled something on her form and then, I thought, forgot all about it.”

“But she didn’t?” Jimmy guessed.

“No, she didn’t,” Thomas said smugly. He took a casual sip of his beer.

Jimmy fought the urge to punch him for deliberately keeping him in suspense. “ _And?!_ ”

“And, I had a meeting with her today in which they offered to publish - on the website, this is, not the actual paper - they’re going to give me a six-part series about being queer.”

“Holy shit!” Jimmy yelled, beaming. The elderly couple at the next table gave him a startled glance, but Jimmy ignored them.

Thomas looked pleased at Jimmy’s enthusiasm; his cheeks had gone a lovely shade of pink. “They’re republishing the three most popular from QI, and the other three I’ll be writing specially, about queer representation in literature and stuff.”

“Holy shit,” Jimmy repeated, more quietly. It was perfect, it was just the sort of thing Thomas was working for. Something very tight and hot lodged itself at the top of Jimmy’s sternum. It was a little hard to talk past the pain in his chest, but Jimmy managed to say gruffly: “I’m made up for you, mate, I really am.” _If I was a girl_ , Jimmy thought, _I’d hug you now._ He settled for clapping Thomas on the shoulder.

Thomas talked about his plans for the series for a while. Jimmy suddenly thought about the QI article _he_ had been reading that day, so when Thomas suggested writing about ways to connect with other queer people Jimmy found himself saying: “I haven’t been with a woman in six months, it’s driving me mad. Maybe I should try a guy, just once, eh? I could make use of your article, right?” He tried not to let it sound _too_ serious, as though it was something that he had just thought of then. The deception would not be hard for Thomas to swallow; Jimmy rarely thought about things more than a week in advance.

“Hah,” Thomas responded, but there was something off about his smile. “Won’t be published for a couple of months yet.”

Jimmy concluded that Thomas was probably just nervous about it.

He thought about sitting on his own in The Will and asking a strange man for a casual fuck. _'I'm not gay, I just want sex, yeah I know it's weird.'_  He was terrible at conversations like that. It would be easier, surely, with someone he already knew.

“You’re not having much luck, then?” Thomas asked slowly. He took a drink and then wiped his mouth with his right hand. He didn’t use his left hand much, especially for things that involved liquids or dirt, because he liked to keep his glove clean. Today, he was wearing a green fleece fingerless one.

Thomas had told him why he wore the glove once.

 

* * *

 

_“Listen up,” he said, when Jimmy asked why Thomas was wearing gloves in August. “Because I’m not dragging it up again.” He explained that, when Thomas was a child, his parents had never been too kind to him. Thomas had known all his life that he was gay, and they used this as another excuse for their need to ‘toughen him up’._

_“They never laid a hand on me,” Thomas said. “Not that I remember.” Nonetheless, they had done everything they could to make Thomas believe that he was evil and that his desires were wrong and that he was worthless and unloveable._

_Then his dad had died in a car crash and it had only got worse from there. His mother loomed over him to shout, spat in his face, threw out all the food in the house without warning, locked him in the bathroom for whole weekends._

_By the time he was ten, Thomas knew he had to get out, but because his mother had never hurt him physically, he didn’t know how. He was afraid that if he told they would have told his mum and just made her angry._

_So instead, one day after school, he pulled the iron out of a cupboard, plugged it in, waited for it to heat up, and put it on his left hand and wrist._

_Little Thomas had taken his burn to school the next day and by the time his teacher, Mrs Dickson, had finished her gasp, he knew he wouldn’t have to go home again. “How did that happen?” she asked._

_“Mummy did it,” Thomas said._

_Mrs Dickson called the First Aider, and then the police. The First Aider called an ambulance. The police called the CPS. Thomas sat in the ambulance and managed to explain everything his mother had done to a pretty blond-haired lady called Clara. Thomas spent the day with her playing snap and learning chess while some police officers visited his neighbours._

_“Yes,” his neighbours said (he learned later), “she’s always shouting. We didn’t realise how bad it was but we’re not surprised. Burned the lad’s hand, you say? Needs locking up, that one.”_

_And that was the last Thomas saw of his mum. He managed to get fostered and moved schools. He liked Anna more than John. They had already fostered a quiet little brunette girl called Phyllis, who liked to be called Phyllie even though it made her sound like soft cheese. He didn’t know why, but he never wanted to change his surname. It was his._

_“It scarred,” Thomas said to Jimmy, lifting his hand. “Pretty badly. I didn’t get it treated fast enough. I still don’t like to look at it. And that’s why I wear the glove.”_

_As much as he could, in fact, Thomas wore two gloves, to be less conspicuous._

_That conversation was what gave Jimmy the courage to say: “My dad died, too. In Afghanistan. When I was fifteen. And a year later mum died of pneumonia. I stayed with my aunt for a bit but mostly I’ve fended for meself.”_

_And then, to his shock, Thomas leaned in and kissed him. Jimmy pushed him away. “Woah, mate, fuck off,” he said, without malice._

_Thomas blushed and looked disappointed. “Sorry. I thought we were having a moment. Obviously not.”_

_“I’m straight.”_

_“Alright. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”_

_It was awkward for a while, but eventually they had settled into a close friendship. About six months after their first meeting, Thomas had drunkenly told Jimmy that he was in love with him, but he had never mentioned it since and had had plenty of boyfriends. As far as Jimmy knew, his ‘love’ had only lasted a couple of months. Which suited him fine._

_Very soon, they talked about **everything** , and met up every Wednesday for their pub night. Nothing was ever off-limits in their conversations._

 

* * *

 

Which was how Jimmy found himself thinking about casual sex with a man he knew... and saying: “Don’t suppose _you’re_ up for it, Thomas? Might be less complicated with someone who already knows me and what I’m talkin’ about.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Um, me?”

“Yeah, why not? You liked me once, it can’t be that bad.”

A little smile graced Thomas’s lips. His gaze flickered between Jimmy’s eyes and lips a couple of times, then he leaned in slowly and Jimmy met him halfway.

 _Okay_ , Jimmy thought, as Thomas’s mouth touched his, _This is weird. This is really really weird._ Thomas began to move his lips, very slowly, and Jimmy tasted second-hand beer. _I am far too aware of how weird this is to actually enjoy it._ All the same, his heartrate was picking up. His body approved, even if his mind was distracted.

_Fuck, I hope that old couple aren’t homophobic._

Jimmy suddenly wondered whether Thomas had his eyes open, and darted a blurry glance. His eyes were shut. Jimmy closed his too and tried to relax into it.

 _Okay_ , Jimmy thought again, _This is... good. This is definitely... definitely very good._

They still weren’t touching anywhere but their mouths and their knees but somehow Jimmy was starting to tingle all over anyway. Any traces of weirdness had slipped away and Jimmy became more eager; he kept finding that his mouth was open and seeking Thomas’s lips before Thomas was ready. He couldn’t help it, it felt so good. He wanted - to go faster, for Thomas to press against him urgently - but again he found his mouth gaping and lonely before Thomas’s lips returned to meet his. Jimmy’s frustration manifested itself as a little noise in the back of his throat.

Again he tried to push Thomas to go faster but he would not budge from his glacial pace. Jimmy felt Thomas’s cheeks lift and mouth curve into a smile, so he pulled away just far and long enough to say: “You’re infuriating.”

“Thanks,” Thomas murmured back smugly.

Jimmy realised that if they kept this up, he wouldn’t be suitable for polite company for much longer. Apparently, fucking a man was going to be less difficult than he had feared. He pulled back half an inch and whispered: “Can we go back to yours?”

Before Thomas could answer, someone shouted: “Hey! None of that in here!”

Thomas and Jimmy looked up to see the owner scowling through the serving hatch. His eyebrows made it an impressive scowl indeed; Jimmy might almost have been intimidated if he wasn’t riding high on endorphins and nascent arousal. “Fuck off,” Jimmy told him, in the same instant as Thomas said:

“Fuck you.”

The owner opened his mouth but was interrupted by his wife placing a hand on his arm. “Now, Charlie, don’t be backwards. We’ve seen much worse displays than that in here before.”

Thomas gave a respectful nod. “Thank you, Elsie.”

“In this day and age!” scolded the elderly woman next to them. “You be careful who you’re rude to, Charlie, or you’ll lose all your customers.”

Charlie’s lined face went very red. Jimmy wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or anger.

“We were just off anyway,” Thomas announced calmly, mostly addressing Elsie and ignoring Charlie. He stood. “Ready, Jimmy?” He offered his hand apparently casually, but Jimmy saw a flicker of self-doubt in his face.

Decisively, Jimmy took Thomas’s hand and they left the over-warm room, walking instead onto the cold street. Chancing a look at Thomas’s face, Jimmy was surprised; he had expected Thomas to look rattled but his face was relaxed and content. _Maybe he’s just pleased because Elsie and that woman stuck up for him... us,_ Jimmy thought. He didn’t say anything.

At first, the cold air had been a welcome relief, but soon Jimmy shivered in his t-shirt and hoodie.

“D’you want my coat?” offered Thomas.

“Nah, it’s not far.”

“You sure?”

Jimmy frowned at him, puzzled. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Jimmy felt a thumb stroking his hand, and noticed that his and Thomas’s hands were still clasped together.

“Is this alright?”

Looking up revealed Thomas’s nervous expression. Jimmy squeezed his hand and nodded.

A minute later, they came to Thomas’s building and Thomas steered them up to it. Unexpectedly, Jimmy missed his hand as he let go to open the door. In the lift to the third floor, anticipation shivered under Jimmy’s skin. It was a lot less weird than he had thought it would be, when he had pictured going home with a man.

Although Jimmy had been to Thomas’s flat hundreds of times, when the lift doors slid open, Thomas placed a guiding hand at the small of Jimmy’s back. Although logically it seemed unnecessary, Jimmy’s body was shouting that it was extremely necessary, that being touched just now was essential.

Thomas unlocked his door and Jimmy followed him inside, his first glance at the familiar flat looking alien in his hyped-up state. Thomas pushed the door closed behind Jimmy and paused with his left arm leaning against the door. Jimmy looked up at him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe, transfixed by the half-light caressing Thomas's face from the indistinct glow of the many streetlamps on the pavements below them.

“Are you sure about this?” Thomas asked, cupping Jimmy’s cheek with a featherlight touch of his right hand.

By way of answer, Jimmy tilted his head and put his hands on Thomas’s waist to draw him into a kiss. Thomas was good at kissing; soft and solid and teasing by turns. At first, they kept up the gentle pace from before, but now when Jimmy pushed the pace Thomas followed, his left hand moving from the door to slowly unzip Jimmy’s hoodie.

“If we’ve got to undressin’, we should go in the bedroom,” Jimmy said, his voice rough.

Nodding, Thomas let him go so that he could take his shoes and socks off. Jimmy followed suit, eyeing Thomas’s pale feet as they were exposed. There was a smattering of dark hair on his toes. _Right,_ Jimmy thought, feeling dazed. _Definitely about to fuck a man, then._

But somehow, when he met Thomas’s eyes again, his nerves settled. “You’ll be good to me, won’t you?”

Thomas smiled and reached for his hand. “You know I will.”

Jimmy nodded and let Thomas lead him into the bedroom, where he slipped his own hoodie off his shoulders before lifting his arms to allow Thomas to pull his t-shirt over his head. It briefly got stuck on his nose and Thomas laughed as he tried to free it gently while Jimmy wriggled with his arms trapped above his head. When it came free, Thomas dropped it on the floor with a grin. “Told ya you’re big-headed,” he teased.

“You won’t be laughing when I’m done with you,” Jimmy threatened good-naturedly, slipping his hands onto Thomas’s arse to pull their hips together.

“Promises, promises,” Thomas murmured as he dipped his head for another kiss.

Jimmy felt soft fabric and soft skin against his chest as Thomas laid his hand there. “Can I take it off?” he checked, laying one of his own hands over the fleece.

Thomas looked uncertain.

“I’ll close my eyes.”

A little smile tugged at Thomas’s lips. “Alright then.”

Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut emphatically and slipped the glove off. Without looking, he kissed Thomas’s hand, feeling raised skin under his lips, before guiding it back to his own chest.

Jimmy soon learned that Thomas was very quiet during sex, so Jimmy kept checking: “Is that okay? Does this feel good? Do you like that?”

Every time, Thomas breathed “ _yes_ ” or “ _more_ ” or “ _don’t stop_ ”.

When they both lay sated, Jimmy just gazed at Thomas’s contented expression for a while, and Thomas looked right back, gentle and sleepy and blinking slowly.

 _I just had sex with you_ , Jimmy thought lazily. It felt as though it should be kept between the two of them; Jimmy would never live it down if someone found out. And then they might make it awkward between him and Thomas, which he didn’t want, because he felt so good right then and he couldn’t handle someone ruining their friendship.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, that email to QueerInsider was written by Daisy. She works in Jimmy's work canteen too and had, for a while, been hung up on Alfred (the cook), but then got over him. Then she got a bit confused by her admiration for the tutor on the Feminist Politics course she started attending. As a result of Liv’s advice, she asked the tutor out for coffee, and she & Sybil entered a relationship. Why yes I did start low-key shipping Daisy/Sybil after rewatching s2e1+2.
> 
> Also The Will And The Way is owned/run by William, and you can bet he makes Shakespeare references at every opportunity (I'm thinking cocktails called Summer's Day and stuff).
> 
> I debated for a while about Thomas’s hand injury. War/the army works differently now (no conscription and, AFAIK, no trench warfare), so even if Thomas had signed up (which I doubt), I couldn’t see a neat way for him to get injured on purpose. I originally considered having it as self-harm/suicide-attempt scars, but that just didn’t seem to fit his character. Instead, I went for a scenario with the same principles - he was in a bad situation so he hurt himself in order to get out. Info on how long scars from this kind of burn would last is inconclusive, but I think it’s feasible enough that he might still have them - at least enough for him to be self-concious about. I also picture him as being younger here than in most of the show - 27, 28, something like that, with Jimmy about 24. Obviously, I’ve played around with some other ages a lot too.
> 
> Suggestions for series names appreciated.


End file.
